


Stronger

by Jya



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Cooking, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Jaemin hates being vulnerable, Jisung's braces, M/M, Protective Lee Taeyong, Sickfic, Taeyong is always right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:27:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22081066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jya/pseuds/Jya
Summary: Jaemin is injured and out for an indefinite amount of time. His members treat him like he's broken- Jisung cries whenever he sees him, Chenle is avoiding him, Renjun looks at him like he's dying and Jeno doesn't know how to talk to him anymore. He just wants them to treat him normally because he's FINE!Taeyong reminds him that he'snotfine. He needs to admit that he's not okay and learn how to ask for help when he needs it. Only then will his friends stop fussing.But admitting that he's not okay and making himself vulnerable might actually be harder than coping with his injury in the first place.Canon compliant. Based on Jaemin's 2017 back injury.Lots of crying, fussing and cuddling featuring bickering hyungs, a ransom letter and a gyoza making session.
Relationships: Lee Taeyong & Na Jaemin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 140





	Stronger

**Taeyong~**

Taeyong jumped as the steam from the pot burned the back of his hand. Right, he thought to himself, steam was a thing and shit did it burn. He forgot about it seconds later as he spooned the hot rice noodles into a large plastic container, sealing it quickly to keep it warm. He tasted the stray noodle left in the pan, smiling as he decided it was perfect; not quite cooked yet, but done enough that it would be perfect by the time he reached his destination. The container went into the cloth bag on the counter followed by some chopsticks. The rest of the food he’d made went into the fridge as he shouldered the bag and closed the fridge. 

“JESUS!” Taeyong’s head nearly smacked the ceiling as he lurched in surprise, not expecting to find Doyoung behind the fridge door when he closed it. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m going to see-” 

“Jaemin,” Doyoung answered for him. He handed him a large bottle of amber liquid. Unsweetened lemon Tea, one of their favourites. “Send him my best.” 

“I will. Thank you,” Taeyong said, taking the bottle and stuffing it in his bag. 

“And if he wants to come up for dinner, it will just be us, Yuta and Johnny. Everyone else is going to be at the studio until later.” 

“Sound goods,” Taeyong said, heading for the door. 

The walk across to the Dreamie’s dorm wasn’t far. Down the plush-carpeted stairs, out the door and down the elevator into the parkade. Crossing underground saved him from going out in the rain, and it was gated so it was typically just safer overall. His footsteps echoed loudly as his flipflops smacked against the concrete of the nearly empty garage, and he made his way passed the row of black cars. He punched in the entrance code and headed up the elevator. For whatever reason, the elevator in the 127 side of the building was much slower than this one, and he was rocketed up eight levels in only seconds, feeling the acceleration against his body and thankfully stepping out as the door opened. He was grateful no one was around to laugh at him for scaring so easily. He’d been in that elevator hundreds of times before. He stepped down the hallway, noisy shoes muffled now by the carpet. It was quiet and the lights were dim. He punched in the second access code and let himself into the Dreamie’s dorm. The lights were all on but no one was around. Of course the place was a mess, shoes everywhere, socks and jackets thrown on the ground at the door. He made a mental note to schedule some time to come over and clean. For now though, he headed for the bedroom Jaemin shared with Jisung. Again, he’d been in here countless times, but more often to visit Jisung than Jaemin. Despite how young he was, Jaemin was strong, always had been. But even so, with what he was dealing with now, anyone would be struggling. 

Taeyong knocked at the door, and a quiet voice came from behind it. He knew Jaemin wasn’t expecting anyone. “Hello?” 

He turned the doorknob and pushed the door open slowly. 

“Taeyong-hyung?” 

“Hey Jaeminie,” Taeyong said, forcing a smile. 

Jaemin looked so small in his bed, dressed in his white pajamas and wrapped in layers of blankets, sitting up against a pile of pillows. There were glasses of juice and bottles of water around him, piles of snacks, his laptop and his phone, all plugged in. It was obvious that he’d spent and planned on spending a good amount of time in his sickbed. He had glasses pushed up his nose and he was reading a book. He looked pale, tired, and his eyes were puffy as though he’d been crying. 

“What are you doing here?” Jaemin asked, looking surprised. He closed his book and pushed his glasses up on top of his dark brown hair, bangs falling back into his eyes. 

“I came to see how you were doing,” Taeyong said. “And I brought you some hot food.” He set the bag down and moved across the room. Jisung’s bed was made on the other side of the room, and Taeyong recognized the stuffed dinosaur the maknae never travelled without next to Jaemin’s pillow. 

“Oh,” Jaemin’s face fell a bit. “I’m ok.” 

“Oh yeah? Well, I guess I’ll just eat all this homemade honey tteokbokki by myself then,” Taeyong smirked, watching Jaemin’s eyes light up as Taeyong pulled the container from his bag. 

“You made that?” Jaemin asked, eyes curious as he watched Taeyong open the lid. 

“Just finished. The sauce has been simmering for hours. We should let it cool a little bit though. It’s really hot. Here,” Taeyong passed him the bottle of tea that Doyoung had given him. Taeyong wondered when he’d last eaten or drank anything as he guzzled a large portion of it down. The cups and bottles around him were full, and his snacks around his bed were unopened.

“It smells so good,” Jaemin said softly, sealing the bottle and eyeing the tteokbokki again. 

“Sample?” Taeyong asked, picking out a small rice noodle and blowing on it until it stopped steaming. He then reached across and offered it to Jaemin, who opened his mouth and accepted it. He chewed thoughtfully, wincing a bit as it was still hot. 

“Oh my god hyung!” 

Taeyong smiled. “Good?” 

Jaemin’s eyes brightened as he swallowed, “how did you do that?!” 

“I can teach you, it’s really not that hard,” he laughed as he reached over to wipe a bit of sauce from Jaemin’s chin. 

“You say that, but you’re like a master chef!” 

“Nah, that’s Doyoung. I Just find cooking fun,” Taeyong said honestly, setting the dish aside to let it cool a bit more. “Anyway, how are you doing? I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to come see you sooner.” 

“It’s ok. I’m... “ his face fell again. 

“Frustrated?” Taeyong offered. 

Jaemin looked up at him, eyes locking with his. “Yes! I’m so freaking frustrated!”

“You can swear,” Taeyong said. 

“I’m fucking frustrated!” His voice was so quiet and delicate compared to normal, like he hadn’t been talking or like he just woke up. 

“Let it out, hun,” Taeyong said, reaching for Jaemin’s hand. “It’s hard being in pain, not being able to perform, not having any say in anything.” 

“It’s not even that. It’s-” He stopped, like he knew he shouldn’t vocalize what he was thinking. 

“Jaemin, you can tell me. I won’t say anything to anyone.” Jaemin looked up at Taeyong like he was considering it, weighing his options as he absently picked at his cuticles.“Nothing you say here leaves this room.” Taeyong gently covered Jaemin’s hands with his own, stopping him from tearing at the skin. It was a nervous habit that Jaemin had had for as long as Taeyong had known him. 

Jaemin sighed, releasing the tension from his hands as they fell into his lap. Taeyong gave his hand a soft squeeze.

“It’s more the guys than anything else right now,” he said, his voice low and quiet. 

“The members? What do you mean?” Taeyong shifted closer and pulled his legs up onto the bed, crossing them and getting comfortable. He set his other hand on Jaemin’s leg encouragingly.

“It’s just, they treat me like glass… like I’m broken and I’m going to shatter if they talk to loud around me. Jisung can’t even look at me without crying. Chenle hasn’t come around as much and Jisung has been staying over at his place a lot. I know they’re avoiding me. Renjun looks at me with so much pity in his eyes it’s like I’m dying. Jeno is trying, but being around him is just awkward because he doesn’t know what to say to me. I just want them to go back to normal, shoot stupid jokes at me, call me a dumbass, punch me in the arm, I don’t know.” He threw his hands up, exasperated. 

“You’re a dumbass,” Taeyong smirked at him. 

“Thank you! It’s been like, a week since I heard that!” 

“You’re not, really. I mean, you probably are but... I understand what you’re saying. Everything is falling apart and you need them to be your strong point.” 

“They’re my best friends and they feel so fucking far away,” Jaemin said, his voice breaking at this last word. He turned away, trying to hide his face. 

If there was one thing Taeyong knew about Jaemin it was that he didn’t show his feelings easily. Rage, frustration, pain, he hid it all. He almost never cried in front of others. Taeyong had forced it out of him once or twice when he was a trainee, but he never did it voluntarily. He wondered if he ever cried in front of the Dreamies. 

Taeyong shifted himself around to the other side id the bed, careful not to jar Jaemin too much as he moved. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt him. He moved closer and wrapped an arm around him. For all the height Jaemin had gained in the last six months, he still had such a petite frame and Taeyong’s arm fell easily around both shoulders. 

“Sorry,” Jaemin sobbed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. 

“Don’t be,” Taeyong said, dropping his arm to Jaemin’s back. He began rubbing soft, small circles into his lower back, “it’s ok to cry. Keeping everything pent up isn’t healthy.” 

“I know,” Jaemin sniffled. He dropped his head onto Taeyong’s shoulder.

Taeyong pulled Jaemin’s glasses off his head and set them on the nightstand. “Wanna tell me what else is going on inside that pretty head of yours?” He asked, running a hand over the back of Jaemin’s head, fingers gently stroking through his hair. 

“I don’t even know anymore,” Jaemin sobbed. “I just want my friends back.” 

“They haven’t gone anywhere. And you know they’re so worried about you,” Taeyong said as he combed his fingers through the hair at the base of Jaemin’s neck. It was getting so long, and Taeyong wondered how long the staff were planning to keep him on hiatus for. 

“I keep telling them I’m fine but they don’t listen and they just keep being stupid about it.”

“But hun, you’re not fine,” Taeyong said softly, tightening his hold on Jaemin supportively, hoping the statement wouldn’t break him. It needed to be said; if the others weren’t talking to him, someone needed to. “Your members see it, you see it, and the staff have obviously seen in it or you wouldn’t… be in this situation.”

Jaemin didn’t reply, but his body stiffened. Taeyong moved his arm up, grasping Jaemin’s shoulder tight, forcing himself to be silent and let Jaemin take a minute to digest what he’d said. 

Jaemin sniffled, attempting to take a deep breath, “Ok, you’re right. I’m not fine. I don’t need anything from them though.” 

“But you do, you just said that you did. You need them to treat you like normal in order to be supportive. But you can’t sit there and tell them nothing is wrong when they can clearly see that isn’t true.” Taeyong stroked the back of his hair, loosening his hold in case Jaemin wanted to move away. He could feel the heat coming off of him, the kind of heat that came with having a meltdown and crying. But Jaemin didn’t let go. If anything, he held tighter onto Taeyong, finger tips digging into Taeyong’s shirt. 

“I just… I don’t want them to worry about me.”

“They’re already worried, Jaemin. You owe them the truth.” 

Jaemin didn’t say anything. 

“Do you ask for help when you need it?”

Still, nothing. He was silent, like he wasn’t even breathing. 

“Look, I don’t say this to be any kind of condescending. I’ve been lectured by Doyoung enough to have at least sort of figured it out though. You need to ask for help when you need it, tell them you’re not ok when you aren’t, and be honest with them. If they know you’ll ask for help when you need it, they won’t pester you so much. They’ll let you come to them, but think how hard it is for them to see you suffering silently and alone.”

Jaemin still didn’t say anything, and Taeyong could feel him picking at his fingers again, scraping and tearing at the skin of his cuticles on the hands he held behind Taeyong’s back. He didn’t want to let go, so he opted for reaching behind him and pulling Jaemin’s hand away, lacing their fingers together to stop the destructive habit. As he pulled his hand away however, Jaemin leaned back a bit and Taeyong caught a glimpse of his face, eyes swollen and red, tears running down his face. He reached with his other hand and wiped them away. Jaemin’s eyes locked with his. 

“I know you’re right,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper. Taeyong knew if he tried to speak his voice would break. “It’s just so fucking hard.” 

He didn’t sob, didn’t cry. If anything, his tears slowed, and his eyes remained locked with Taeyong’s. He was asking for help, not directly, but Taeyong could tell. And this was a step. 

“I know. I know it’s so hard,” Taeyong said, squeezing Jaemin’s hand tight. “But things will feel so much better after you open up. It’s so hard to make yourself vulnerable, even around the people you love.” 

“I’ve never cried in front of anyone but you,” he said. And Taeyong had his answer. “I’ve seen all of them cry, been there for all of them, but I’ve never let them see that side of me. I’ve waited so long that now it’s so much harder. Why couldn’t I have just let them in years ago?” 

“They’re your best friends, Jaemin. Even if you haven’t explicitly told them everything, they know you better than anyone. And I can tell you right now that they want to help you in any way they can.”

“I know they do,” Jaemin said, his voice gaining a bit more volume. He’d stopped crying, but he sounded so weak and exhausted. Taeyong wasn’t sure if it was a byproduct of his injury or this breakdown. Maybe a combination of things. Taeyong knew how hard it was to hide things from your family. He’d done it for too long. If he was being completely honest, he still did sometimes, but Jaemin didn’t need to know that right now. 

“The best way might be to sit down with all of them and talk. Tell them how you’re feeling and be completely honest,” Taeyong advised. The expression that crossed Jaemin’s face said he’d rather eat his own thumbs than have that conversion. “Or start small… try talking to Renjun? He’s always been very receptive, right?” 

“He’ll just start crying,” Jaemin sighed. 

“Maybe, but that’s ok if he does.” 

“I don’t want to make him cry, Hyung!” Jaemin sounded exasperated. “Do I really have to do this?” 

“Think about it, at least, will you?” 

Jaemin sighed again and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll try.” 

“Will you talk to me?”

Jaemin looked up at him. “Aren’t I already?” 

“Yes, you are. Thank you for opening up to me,” Taeyong said, setting his hand on Jaemin’s shoulder and sliding it to his neck so he could cup Jaemin’s chin. 

“What do you want to ask me?”

“Be honest with me,” Taeyong said, feeling guilty for prefacing his question like that, but he knew he needed to. Jaemin was programmed to lie. “How long have you been in pain like this?” 

Jaemin dropped his gaze, eyes fixed on his folded hands in his lap. Taeyong knew he was calculating in his head, trying to determine whether or not to tell the truth. 

“A long time,” Jaemin finally said. “Since we were rookies. It wasn’t really bad until recently though, nothing I couldn’t handle.” 

“What did your doctor say?”

“He said I could probably get better without surgery, but it’s going to take time and a lot of physical therapy. He couldn’t give me a date, or assurance that it will work either.” He sounded so defeated, speaking those words. 

“So why not just go for surgery?” Taeyong reached for both his hands and intertwined his fingers with Jaemin’s. 

Jaemin stared at their linked hands, and Taeyong wondered if he was looking at his beat up cuticles or if he was just lost in thought. “He said I’m too young and my body isn’t done growing yet, so this is the smartest option. Plus it will strengthen the rest of my back so this shouldn’t happen again anywhere else.” 

“And what about the managers, what did they have to say?” 

“I asked if I could go home for a while, but they want me to stay and work with the company’s trainers and therapists.” His words sounded sad, and Taeyong wondered how he’d really taken that. To tell a seventeen year old that he was not only being forced to take a break, but he wasn’t allowed to go home would be crushing. 

“SM has some really great staff,” Taeyong said, trying to be positive. And he wasn’t lying; he’d worked with some amazing physical therapists and trainers. Sure the company and the management could be strict, but those working for their health had always been good to Taeyong. 

“I know. I like the trainers I’ve been working with, but I just… I need everyone to just go back to normal if I’m staying here.” 

“Sounds like you need to have a conversation with them. Tell them how you’re feeling, tell them what you need,” Taeyong said, dropping his head to get Jaemin to look at him. 

Jaemin took a deep breath, held it and sighed. He pulled a hand back from Taeyong and wiped at his eyes again. “You’re right. You’re always right, Hyung.”

“Not always. There was that time that I wanted everyone to bond and I booked the laser tag dome and Hyuck and Mark almost killed each other, Jisung got so spooked he cried and Taeil-hyung got locked in the bathroom for an entire hour.” 

Jaemin laughed at that. “Yes, but we still bonded.”

“True, but you weren’t the one who spent forty five minutes trying to coax Jisung out from under the table using Chenle and ramen as bait.”

“Oh right, that was the day we lost Doyoung-hyung on the way home too.” 

“Yes. And then when we went for dinner after, Johnny bumped into a waiter and spilled food everywhere, so Sicheng and Renjun pretended they didn't know us and didn't speak Korean to avoid the embarrassment of associating with us?"

“Ok, so you’re  _ almost _ always right,’ Jaemin smirked. 

Taeyong smiled at him. It was nice to see him laughing. “How long have you been stuck in this bed?”

“Too long,” Jaemin rolled his eyes. 

“Are you ok to walk? Do you want to come upstairs? It’s just Doyoung, Yuta and Johnny home. We can take the tteokbboki and see what else they’re making.” 

“Does that mean we have to share it?”

“Pfft, no. I made that for you.” 

Jaemin smiled, but only for a second. “I can walk but I’m really slow. I get these nerve pains in my legs and… I’ve wiped out before. Jeno keeps trying to carry me around the house so I decided I was staying in bed.” 

“How about you walk and just lean on me? We can take it super slow.” 

“They gave me crutches in case the pain got bad but… that just means I’ll get stuck standing on them instead of being stuck on the ground. I don’t see how that’s better.” He had a slight smirk on his face, so Taeyong laughed. 

“Seems kind of obsolete. Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall. And if we have to stop for a break, a least we have good food!” He held up the container filled with still piping hot rice noodles. 

“Sounds good,” Jaemin said, “let’s do it.” He set his hands down beside him like he was about to pull himself up. But he paused. Normally Taeyong would have asked him what he needed, but he wanted Jaemin to ask. He needed to learn how. “Hyung?”

“Yes?” Taeyong said, looking away and standing up himself. 

“Could you um, maybe help me up… and er… help me get dressed?” 

Taeyong smiled at him. “Not so hard, right?”

“Jerk,” Jaemin muttered under his breath.

“Dumbass,” Taeyong muttered back. “But yes, of course I’ll help. How? Help me help you?”

Jaemin slid his legs up the bed and leaned forward, “just like, stand here and give me your hand.” 

Taeyong did, and Jaemin gripped his hand tight, using it to drag his body to the edge of the bed and slowly push his legs over the side. Taeyong understood the other members’ pain, he really did. It was hard to see Jaemin, so young and normally agile, struggling to move like this. But they were dancers, athletes; injuries were inevitable and you just… dealt with them. 

“You good?” Taeyong asked as Jaemin leaned over the side. 

“Yeah,” he said, sounding a bit out of breath. Taeyong was willing to bet that was more because of the pain than actual fatigue. “Bottom drawer, can you grab me a pair of pants?” 

Taeyong slid the drawer open of the dresser that Jaemin pointed to. There was another identical one next to it that he assumed was Jisung’s. 

“Which ones do you want?” 

“I don’t care, you pick,” Jaemin said. “Shirts are in the middle drawer. You can style me,” he looked up and smiled at Taeyong. 

“I think,” Taeyong contemplated, “comfy is probably best.” He picked out a pair of grey sweatpants and a white long sleeve. Whenever Johnny was home the place was colder than usual. He could always offer Jaemin a sweater, but the long sleeve was right there so he picked it. 

“Thanks,” Jaemin said, taking the clothes. He pulled off his pajama shirt and Taeyong tried not to react to how thin Jaemin was. He’d seen Jaemin shirtless plenty of times and he was fairly certain he’d never been able to see that kind of definition in his ribs. He would worry about that later; for now he offered his hand to Jaemin again, helping him to stand and pull up his sweatpants. 

The journey across the parking lot wasn’t bad. Jaemin couldn’t lift his legs much so his steps were small, but they didn’t encounter any hiccups as Taeyong held him around the waist, Jaemin’s arm thrown over his shoulder. Even so, Jaemin was clearly exhausted when they finally reached the 127 dorm. A few steps up to the main level, and he was ready to crash into the chair Taeyong deposited him into near the kitchen. 

“Hey Jaemin,” Doyoung approached quickly, wide smile on his face as he leaned over him and planted a kiss on his forehead. “How’s my favourite Dreamie?”

“Jeno is fine, hyung,” Jaemin grinned. 

“Ahh good to hear. And how are you?” Doyoung laughed, ruffling his hair. 

Taeyong discretely turned to watch as he opened the fridge, watching to see how Jaemin would respond. “I-” he paused, swallowing his automatic reaction. “I’m a bit of a mess. But I’m getting by,” he said. Taeyong smiled at him. “It’s nice to be out of the dorm.” 

“You’re welcome here anytime!” Yuta swooped in, dropping himself into the chair next to Jaemin, baking pan and bowl in hand. “Thanks Yongie, for bringing some kitchen help!”

“What?” Taeyong asked, leaning over to get a better look at what Yuta was talking about, 

“I’m making gyoza! My mom’s recipe. Everything is done, but I still have to stuff them which is the most time consuming part!”

“Really? You’re going to put him to work?” Doyoung asked. 

“Sure, why not? He’s eating here for free!” 

“Just like you do every night!” Doyoung shot back. 

“You don’t mind helping, right Jaeminie?” Yuta asked, smiling wide at Jaemin. As if anyone could say no to that smile. 

“Sure, I don’t mind,” Jaemin said, his voice sincere. Taeyong was pretty sure Jaemin had been bored out of his mind, stuck in bed all week and was probably happy to have something to do. 

“Perfect! See Doyoung!”

Doyoung shook his head and returned to the pot he was standing over. He was grumbling something that Taeyong couldn’t quite hear. 

“You’re allowed to help too, just for the record. You too, Yongie!” 

“Really? I am?” Taeyong chuckled, closing the fridge as he pulled out a soda. He popped the can open and felt Doyoung twitch across the kitchen. 

“I keep telling you, Hyung, you’re going to ruin your teeth with all those sugary drinks.” 

“I’m fine, Mom,” Taeyong laughed, pulling the chair out and sitting down across from Jaemin. Yuta was showing him how to stuff dumpling skins, so Taeyong leaned over to learn as well. Before he dug into the filling, he sent off a quick mass text to the other four Dream members that lived with Jaemin. 

“Why are you grinning like that?” Yuta asked, pausing his task. 

“What are you talking about? I’m just smiling. It’s a beautiful night.” 

Yuta and Jaemin exchanged glances. “He’s getting into some kind of trouble,” Yuta said. 

“I thought so.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Taeyong said, reaching for some of the gyoza filling. 

It wasn’t long before Johnny joined them as well, washing his hands and sitting down at the table. Doyoung had taken the first batch of gyoza and was frying it now while the others worked on the rest. 

“How’s your back?” Johnny asked Jaemin, glancing up from his dumpling. 

“It’s… pretty crappy. I’m hanging in there.” Taeyong thought he saw Jaemin’s shoulder tense a bit.

“Shit, sorry to hear. Let me know if there’s anything I or any of us can do, hey? Doyoung gives great massages.” 

“Are you volunteering me for things without my permission again?” Doyoung called from the kitchen. 

“Of course not,” Johnny grinned, but then turned back to Jaemin with a smile, “but seriously, just ask. He never says no.” 

“Noted,” Jaemin said. 

From there the conversation steered in the direction of marine life, Yuta and Doyoung arguing over which sea creatures could breathe in and out of water. Taeyong watched Jaemin visibly relax, and the pair quickly exchanged a knowing glance. He would never be treated differently around here. Of course the others would worry about him, especially because he was younger than them, but they wouldn’t fuss. Jaemin would later ask Taeyong if he’d messaged them ahead of time to tell them to act normal, and Taeyong certainly wouldn’t need to lie. 

“Ok Hyung! We brought you your chocolate! Can we have our Jaemin back please? He’s injured and needs to res-” Renjun stopped mid sentence as his eyes fell to where Jaemin was perched on the couch between Johnny and Yuta, highly engaged in a serious game of Mario Kart. 

“You sent them a ransom letter?” Yuta laughed. 

“No, of course not! Ransom implies that there is a monetary demand. I just asked for chocolate.” 

“We would have picked it up for you if you’d just asked, Hyung,” Chenle said, handing the plastic bag to Taeyong. 

“But then I’d run the risk of only one of you coming. We have enough food to feed an army. Are you guys hungry?” 

Jeno, Chenle and Renjun looked like they were drooling on the spot, but Jisung was hiding behind the others in some combination of scared, sad and tired, hood up over his head and shoulders tight. 

“Jisungie, you ok?” Taeyong asked, quiet enough so the others couldn’t hear. 

Jisung just nodded. 

“Jisungie got his braces today,” Chenle explained, wrapping an arm around Jisung’s shoulders. “He’s embarrassed because he sounds funny when he talks.” 

Jisung opened his mouth to speak, but groaned instead and smacked Chenle’s arm. 

“Oh shit, Jisungie, I forgot that was today,” Jaemin said, obviously having heard the conversation. “Come here, baby.” 

Johnny got up from the couch and headed into the kitchen and Jisung filled his empty spot next to Jaemin. 

  
  


**Jaemin~**

Jaemin leaned back against the couch, forcing the smile to retain its position on his face as a teary Jisung moved toward him. It was the same expression of emotion Jisung had been displaying over the last week, but Jaemin was fairly sure it was for a different reason now. 

Jisung crawled into Johnny’s empty spot and Jaemin wrapped an arm around his shoulder as a small whimper escaped the smaller boy. 

“You doing alright baby boy?” Jaemin asked quietly, clutching Jisung’s shoulder. 

Jisung groaned in response. 

Jaemin had lingual braces as well. He knew how they felt, and boy did he remember those first few days with them. As if it wasn’t enough having a mouth full of metal, leaving little space for your tongue to move to produce proper speech, they were sharp and tore your tongue apart and that hurt but also made your tongue swell more, further impairing your speech. Jaemin knew. And of course he felt for Jisung. 

“Jaemin, should you really be out of bed?” Renjun asked, perching on the edge of the couch next to Jisung, absently rubbing the maknae’s shoulder. Jisung buried his face in Jaemin’s lap. 

“Yes! Yes I should!” 

Renjun stared at him pointedly, evidence of incoming mom-speech written all over his face. 

“Jaemin,” he said, sounding like a disappointed teacher. 

Yuta interjected. “Renjun, I don’t think you understand. I’ve been playing this game with Johnny all day and the score is 327 to ZERO! Someone needed to beat him and it certainly wasn’t going to be Doyoung!” Yuta threw his hands in the air in fake exasperation. 

“I don’t need a video game controller to beat your ass!” Doyoung called from the kitchen. 

Yuta laughed loudly. 

“Do I need to come in there?! This sauce is perfect, you brat! If I walk away and spoil HOURS of work just to smack you, it won’t just be pummeling you.” 

“You know he’s younger than me, right?” Yuta said to Jaemin, pointing in the direction of Doyoung by the stove. “I raised him for 22 years and this is the respect I get.” 

“What was that?” Doyoung demanded. “Speak up, Yuta, I can’t hear you!” 

“See? Not even an honourific.”

Renjun was laughing audibly by now and even Jisung was smiling in Jaemin’s lap. 

“Wanna give it a try, Renjun?” Yuta asked, dropping a controller in his lap. Renjun just stared at it like i was some strange artifact pulled from another dimension and handed to him. 

Chenle chucked from beside them, “Hyung, Renjun doesn’t play video games.” 

“Nonsense, anyone can play a video game. Just give it a try, Renjun. This is how you steer and this is how you shoot. You’ve got this.” 

Renjun most certainly did not ‘have’ this. Jaemin and Chenle laughed all throughout the round as Johnny toyed with him, only half paying attention from the other side of the room. Eventually Renjun managed to blow himself up, giving Johnny another win. He simply sat there and stared at the screen, not stopping Chenle when he stole the controller from his hands. Jeno managed to escape the kitchen and joined in on the game, he and Chenle sitting on the floor in front of Jaemin, Jisung and Renjun. 

“How did you get over here?” Renjun asked Jaemin. Chenle and Jeno were enthralled in their game and not paying attention, but Jaemin wasn’t sure if Jisung was listening or not. Jaemin knew he needed to talk properly to Renjun, but now didn’t feel like the time. 

“Taeyong came over to the dorm and brought me back.” 

“Like, he carried you?” 

“No, like we walked.” 

“Jaemin.”

“Don’t  _ Jaemin _ me. I am perfectly capable of getting out of bed and walking over here on my own.” 

“Are you now?” 

Jaemin turned away. Ok, so maybe Renjun had a point. “Jerk.”

“Listen, I’m just looking out for your well being. If you want to be a dumbass-”

“What?” 

“I’m looking out for your wellbeing?”

“No, the other part!”

“Dumbass?”

“YES! Thank you!” 

“What?” 

“It’s not the same coming from Taeyong-hyung, I know he doesn’t mean it.” 

“I’m so lost right now…” 

Jaemin sighed and leaned back against the couch, enjoying more than he ever thought he would the simple notion of being called a dumbass. 

The eight of them enjoyed a huge meal of various dishes including the gyoza they’d made (“what? You know how to make gyoza?” Jeno had exclaimed when Jaemin said he’d made it. “Of course, doesn’t everyone?” Jaemin had smirked, exchanging a wink with Yuta.), noodles and tteokbokki (yes, Jaemin had decided to share, but only on the condition that Renjun stop hounding him until they got back to the dorm. Renjun had put up a fight, but Jeno had smelled the dish and threatened Renjun with his life if he didn’t agree.). There was more food than they could even imagine consuming, and the Dreamies had headed back to other dorm nearly too full to move. 

Jaemin had taken a still sulking Jisung (he hadn’t been able to eat much thanks to his new and unfamiliar, not to mention painful, braces) back to their room and Chenle had followed. He sat on Jisung’s bed playing a game on his Switch with headphones in while Jaemin climbed back into his own bed with Jisung clinging to his waist. It wasn’t until they were alone that Jisung ceased his non-verbal stint. 

“How long does it hurt?” He asked Jaemin. Sure he had a bit of a lisp, but it was nowhere near as bad as Jisung had made it out to be. Jaemin remembered his speech being the worst the next morning, but Jisung didn’t need to know that. 

“Jisungie, you don’t sound bad at all. What are you making such a fuss for?” 

“Don’t lie,” Jisung said, calling him out. Jaemin had given him a small mirror from his night table and he was using it to stare at the inside of his mouth. 

Jaemin sighed, “The first couple days were the worst. Once you get some decent callus on your tongue it’ll be better. Then it just sucks when they get tightened.”

“Ewww, tongue callus,” Jisung whined. “My tongue is so cut up.” He stuck it out for Jaemin to see. 

“Did they give you the wax? That helped me a lot.” 

“Maybe? I have a bunch of stuff they gave me but I dumped it somewhere downstairs.” 

“There’s some in my drawer. Want me to show you how to use it?” Jaemin offered, squeezing Jisung’s shoulder. As much has he hated seeing his little brother in pain, it was nice to be able to take care of him again. It made him feel less useless. Even if it was a temporary delusion, he wasn’t going to simply let it pass. 

Jisung nodded, then slid his arms under himself and pulled himself up. A simple act that looked so easy, yet to Jaemin it was nearly insurmountable. He tried not to think about it right now. 

Jisung didn’t ask if he wanted him to get it, he just went for the drawer on his own. 

“It’s in a blue case. It looks like a big floss case.” 

Jisung crawled across Jaemin, holding his body above Jaemin’s so he wouldn’t crush him (not that he could, he weighed all of fourteen pounds soaking wet) and dug around in the drawer.

“Damn hyung, you have a lot of snacks in here,” Jisung commented, words slurring a bit. Jaemin was just happy he was comfortable enough to speak in front of him even though he felt self conscious. 

“Jeno keeps bringing them to me. I’m not moving enough to eat that much junk food.” 

“Is this it?” He held up the small case. 

“Yep. Thanks,” Jaemin said. Jisung handed it to him and he checked it over as Jisung settled back in. He wanted to make sure it didn’t expire or anything as it had been a while since he used it. “So you just… take a bit and warm it up in your hands so it molds better, then you press it over the metal so it covers the sharp edges.” 

“Does it taste bad?”

“It’s mint flavored, but it fades fast.” 

“Can you do it for me, hyung?” 

Jaemin rolled his eyes. “You big baby.” 

Jisung whined and curled in on himself, long arms grasping Jaemin’s waist. 

“Fine, fine,” Jaemin said. “Come here.” 

“You’re the best, Hyung.” 

“Yeah, yeah, keep blabbing.” 

He had Jisung lie in his lap and tilt his head back so he could get to the lower braces. He found all the really sore spots on Jisungs tongue and covered the braces with wax.

“What is happening over there?” Chenle said, returning from the alternate reality that was his game. 

“Something only someone whose had braces would understand.” 

Jisung closed his mouth and swallowed. “Chenle has perfect teeth. He’s never even had a cavity.” 

“Lucky. Can’t relate,” Jaemin said. “Open up, Jisungie. I’m almost done.” 

Jaemin molded the last bit of wax into Jisung’s mouth, covering the metal dragging against his tongue. “I think you’re good,” Jaemin said, messing up Jisung’s hair. 

“Thanks,” Jisung said, pulling his head up out of Jaemin’s lap. His speech sounded worse, but hopefully he felt less pain. 

Jaemin nodded and set the wax case aside. 

“Hyung, are you really ok?” Jisung asked, lisping a bit. 

Jaemin sighed. “No, Jisungie, I’m not. Look, I need to talk to you… all of you. Chenle?” Jaemin called, but Chenle had his headphones back in. “Chenle?” He said louder. 

Still no response. So Jaemin reached across the night stand for some paper. He crumpled it up and threw it at Chenle’s head. 

“Eh?” Chenle exclaimed, pulling his earbud out. 

“Can you go get Renjun and Jeno? I want to talk to you all.” 

“Hyung? Is everything ok?” 

“Yes, Chenle, can you please just get them?”

“You’re not dying, right?” 

“No.” 

“Do you have cancer?”

“Chenle…”

“AIDs?”

“.... No.” 

“High heart pressure?” 

“It’s blood pressure, and no.” 

“A colostomy?”

“Chenle, why do you even know what that is?” 

“My mom said my uncle had it once…”

“First of all, that’s not a disease. Second, no. And third, can you please just go get the others before I get up myself and do it?” 

“Ok ok ok! I’m going. Stay in bed. I don’t want Renjun-hyung to yell again.” 

Chenle jumped off the bed and bound toward the door.

“Renjun-hyung was really upset when Taeyong said he’d taken you out of the dorm.” 

“Of course he was.” 

“He’s really worried about you,” Jisung said thoughtfully. Jaemin could see him running his tongue over his newly covered braces. 

“I know he is. That’s why I want to talk to you guys.” 

“All of us?”

“Yes, all of you.” 

“What are you going to tell everyone?” 

A couple of minutes later, Chenle returned with Jeno and Renjun, both looking confused. 

“Jaeminie? Are you ok? Jisung, I don’t know if you should be so close,” Renjun commented. 

“He’s fine,” Jaemin said. “Can you guys sit down please.” 

“Your posture isn’t even like that. I think it’s better if he-” 

“Renjun! Sit! Please!” 

That shut Renjun up. He recoiled like Jaemin had slapped him. But if Jaemin was honest, it had been a long time coming. He was tired of Renjun fussing so much, but Taeyong was right. He needed to talk to them. Renjun speechlessly sat on the end of Jisung’s bed, pulling his feet up onto the bed where Chenle was lying. Jeno sat at the end of Jaemin’s bed at Jisung’s feet. 

“Sorry,” Jaemin mumbled. “I just… I need to get some stuff out, ok?” 

Jeno looked confused, and Jaemin looked to Renjun who nodded, but still looked visibly shaken. Jaemin felt bad, but he couldn’t hold it in any longer. 

“Ok… this isn’t easy for me, so please let me talk without interruption ok? I’ll answer any questions you have after.” After my word vomit, he thought to himself. He really had no idea how he was going to word any of this, but he knew what he needed to get out. Jisung grasped his hand and Jeno and Renjun nodded. Chenle was lying on Jisung’s pillow, but he was attentive, watching Jaemin as he spoke. 

“First of all, I’m sorry for making you worry.” Renjun opened his mouth to protest, but Chenle kicked him, and he stopped. “I know I’ve been a bit of a basket case over the last week, and I’m probably not making this easy for you guys. I know you’re worried, but this is difficult for me as well. You ask me if I’m ok and I lie to you. I tell you I’m fine and to quit fussing, but the truth is I’m not fine. I’m not fine physically or mentally, but I’m really terrible at admitting it. I don’t like attention being brought to the injury that’s ruining my life right now, and I don’t like feeling vulnerable, unable to do things for myself, and like I have to ask for help. You guys know I’m a control freak, and right now I feel like everything is slipping away from me. But you guys fussing over me makes it so much worse. I know you do it because you care, but I hate it. Being with the 127 hyungs tonight was amazing because… they treated me like I was normal again. Like I’m not made of glass… not going to fall apart at the seams, even if none of that is true. But asking you to treat me like that isn’t fair either. I’ve lied to you guys and I don’t ask for help when I need it, so I understand why you act the way you do,” he looked straight at Renjun whose eyes were watery with tears. “I’m sorry that I lie and I’m sorry that I take you for granted. I need to learn to be honest with you guys and I need to ask for and accept help when I need it. But what I need from you guys is for you to treat me the way you always did. I need you to make fun of me, to call me dumb names, smack me if I do something dumb. Jisungie, no more crying when you look at me. Renjun, less fussing, please? Chenle, please don’t avoid me and Jeno, for fuck’s sake you’ve known me for five fucking years, quit acting like I’m some girl you have a crush on and don’t know how to talk to.” Jisung grinned at that, and Renjun chuckled through his tears, but he nodded. Jeno was bright red. 

“Ok now look, this is me being completely honest and saying these things is so fucking difficult. I’m not ok. I’m in pain all the time, even with the drugs I’m taking. I’m tired, I’m bored and I’m cranky, and most of all I’m scared. I’m terrified that I won’t get better, terrified that I’ll be replaced, terrified that you guys will grow and move on without me.” Fuck, now Jaemin was tearing up. Saying it out loud made everything feel more real. Jisung squeezed his hand, and Jeno leaned into him. He wiped his tears. “I need you guys, ok? I need you to be the brothers you always have been. I might be a mess, but I’m still me. Is that… is any of this… ok?” 

He looked down at Jisung, across to Renjun. Both had tears in their eyes. 

Then all of a sudden a loud grunt-snore pierced the room. All eyes turned in the direction of the sound to find Chenle, eyes groggy and blinking. 

“Did you just wake yourself up with your own snoring?” Renjun asked. 

“What?” Chenle blinked. “Sorry, what did I miss?” 

All four of them burst out laughing. 

“You fell asleep?!” Jeno demanded. 

But Jaemin could only laugh. It was the break in the tension that he needed, even if it did mean that Jisung would have to fill him in on everything. 

“He’s tired,” Jisung said, his speech getting worse and worse, but no one commented. “He’s been working really hard at practice the last few days.” 

“It’s fine,” Jaemin laughed. “You can fill him in later, Jisungie.” 

Jeno just shook his head, but Renjun was patting Chenles leg. 

“Anyway, I think I’m finished… if anyone has anything to say… I hope this wasn’t a complete waste of time.” 

Jisung clung tighter to his waist, and Renjun got up from his spot and came across for a hug. “I’m sorry I’ve been handling this so badly,” Renjun said, smile leaving his face. His hug was so small and careful. 

“Don’t be. I’ve been handling it more poorly than anyone,” Jaemin said, awkwardly hugging Renjun’s arm. 

“Thank you for telling us,” Jeno said. “I’m sorry I’ve been so shitty.” 

“Shut up,” Jaemin said, playfully slapping him. “You’ve just been like… too nice to me. It’s weird. Please stop.” 

“You stink and you should probably take a shower,” Jeno said. 

“Fucking thank you! That’s better! And yes, you may help me take a shower later, please. See? I’m trying.” 

“That isn’t really asking for help,” Renjun commented, “that’s demanding it.” 

“I said I’d try, ok? I never said I would be good at it.” 

“Nana, only you would struggle asking us to do things for you. You dumbass.”

“Oh my GOD you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you call me that.” 

“Dumbass,” Jisung muttered. 

“Hey, you’re not allowed to say that. I’m still your Hyung.” 

Jisung smirked. “Dumbass hyung.” 

Jaemin smacked his shoulder, causing him to jump. Of course he was more scared than hurt. Jisung was jumpy at the best of times. “You asked for it!” 

It made Jaemin happy to know that Jisung was feeling more comfortable speaking. 

A soft snore punctuated the air again, and Jaemin looked over to see Chenle snoozing again. 

“Don’t be mad, Hyung,” Jisung said, grasping Jaemin’s hand. “He’s training so hard right now.” 

“I’m not mad,” Jaemin smiled, squeezing Jisung’s hand reassuringly. 

Jisung squirmed and dragged himself up. “Don’t worry, I know how to fix it.” He threw his legs over the side of the bed and launched himself towards Chenle, crawling into the bed next to him like it was the most natural thing ever. From beside him, he gently rolled Chenle onto his side and wrapped his arm around his waist, adjusting his head on the pillow to get comfortable. They all watched as Jisung curled closer to him and pulled the blanket up over himself and Chenle. It was the cutest fucking thing Jaemin had ever seen. 

“Is this free real estate?” Jeno appeared at Jaemin’s side, moving into the space previously occupied by Jisung. 

“Hey, share,” Renjun said, crawling up on Jaemin’s other side. Before Jaemin could say anything, Renjun had weaseled his way under Jaemin’s blanket and wrapped his tiny body around Jaemin’s waist. Jeno quickly followed, and before he could even decide how he felt he found himself in the middle of a Renjun and Jeno sandwich. Both boys were lying on Jaemin’s pillow with their arms around Jaemin’s middle, Jeno with an arm behind Jaemin’s head as well. He was effectively trapped, but they were gentle enough to not hurt him. There was no way he was going to be able to move though. 

“Um, excuse me, I must have missed the part where I extended an invitation to the party in my bed,” Jaemin said, flicking Jeno in the side of the head. 

“Hey, I just followed Renjun.” 

“And I followed Jisung. You always cuddle him. I felt left out. Besides, I missed you.” 

“Jisungie is the exception. He’s always invited.” 

“Wow, favouritism much?” Renjun snuggled closer, grasping Jaemin’s hand and threading their fingers together. 

“And you missed me? I didn’t go anywhere?”

“Yah but you were acting… different,” Renjun pouted. 

Jaemin just about dropped his jaw on the floor. “Wha- Seriously?! ME?” 

“Ok ok ok ok, sorry, we were acting differently,” Renjun said. 

“We were acting like idiots,” Jeno nodded in agreement. 

“And we’re sorry!” Renjun cried, burying his head in Jaemin’s lap. 

“So sorry,” Jeno said. 

“Stop it, both you,” Jaemin groaned. “The amount of cheese in this bed right now… you know I’m lactose intolerant. Cut it out,” he flicked both of them in the side of the head this time. 

“Ouch,” Renjun whined. 

Jaemin rolled his eyes and stroked Renjun’s hair, pulling his long fringe away from his eyes. “You two are ridiculous.” 

Renjun mumbled something into Jaemin’s leg, something completely incomprehensible. 

“Sorry, what?” 

“We were really worried about you,” Jeno told him. God, they literally shared one brain cell. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you guys sooner.” The more he thought about it, the more he agreed he should have done it as soon as he’d been put on hiatus, probably even sooner. 

“I’m glad you’re talking to us now,” Renjun said, taking a big breath as he pulled his face out of Jaemin’s lap. “So tell us Nana, how are you? Is there anything you need from us?”

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d probably like help with a shower. Baths make me feel gross and it’s really hard to get out.” 

“And I wasn’t kidding when I told you that you stink. Let’s get it done,” Jeno teased. 

Jaemin flicked him again. 

“Bully,” Jeno whined, rubbing his forehead. 

“Brat,” Jaemin countered. 

“You don’t smell, Nana. But you look exhausted. Maybe it’s time to get some sleep?” 

Now that the adrenaline of having that intense conversation had worn off, Jaemin realized that Renjun was right. He was tired as hell. He hadn’t been sleeping well, plagued by thoughts of failure, his friends abandoning him laced with the pain in his back. But now, while the pain remained, having his best friends cling to him protectively like this seemed to calm some of the storm inside his head. 

“Yeah, yeah you’re right. I am tired. Can I lie down?”

Both boys released him and moved back, giving him space to wiggle himself down the bed. It hurt, and his first response was to keep a straight face, but then he remembered the conversation with his friends, and the one with Taeyong. He didn’t need to hide from his friends; he needed to be honest. Even if it made them worry, they needed to know. And somehow, relaxing his face and letting himself wince made it hurt just a little bit less, took a little less energy and made it feel a little easier. Renjun quickly moved a hand to support Jaemin’s back, and Jeno rubbed his arm soothingly. Ok, so they were fussing a bit, but it didn’t feel nearly as bad as before. In fact, it felt good knowing that they cared- that they had his back (the wince fell off his face as the bad pun darted through his mind). 

“You good?” Jeno asked as he got situated, adjusting himself so he was comfortable. 

“Yeah,” Jaemin said, “Thanks. Um, could one of you do something for me?” 

Ok, so this part was a little bit harder. He really didn’t want to be a bother. But the way Renjun jumped at the question made him feel better. “Anything!” He exclaimed. 

“Can you buy me a puppy?” Jaemin asked, keeping his face as serious as possible. 

Renjun just blinked at him, “No.”

“You said anything!” 

“Oh my GOD, Nana!” 

“Fine fine, I guess I’ll settle for an ice pack,” Jaemin moaned, pouting dramatically. 

“Got it!” Renjun jumped off the bed and headed for the door. 

“It was worth a try,” Jeno smiled, wrapping himself around Jaemin now that he was comfortably lying down. 

“I wonder what else I should ask him for.” 

“I mean, you could try for a cat?” 

“Hm, maybe? He likes cats better than dogs anyway right?” 

“I don’t actually know,” Jeno laughed. “Want to make a bet?” 

“Loser buys bubble tea?” 

“You’re on. Cats!”

“Dogs!”

“What are you two shouting about?” Renjun asked, returning with an ice pack as well as Jeno’s glasses, contact lens case and solution. “Here, I figured you weren’t leaving. You need to quit sleeping with those things in your eyes.” He handed the case to Jeno.    
“How do you know I still have them in?” 

“Because you wouldn’t have been able to find the bed without them.”

“Wow, rude,” Jeno said. “I’m not that blind.” 

“Don’t lie to me. I remember the day you-”

“Ok ok! Don’t start! I’ll take them out.” He pulled himself up onto his elbow and pinched at his right eye, pulling the lens out and screwing off the first lid. Renjun perched himself on the edge of the bed and poured solution on top of it, then twisted the lid off the second half of the case. “Thanks.” 

“No problem,” Renjun said, handing him his glasses.

“Your turn,” Renjun said to Jaemin, “lift up.” 

“Can’t you like… roll me over or something?” 

“No, Jaemin. Sit up.” 

Jaemin groaned and pulled himself up. Despite how outwardly stern he’d been, Rejun set a supportive hand on Jaemin’s shoulder as he slid the ice pack under his back, getting it in nearly the exact position. He’d hardly even showed Renjun where it hurt. Maybe he could read minds after all. 

“Thank you,” Jaemin said. 

Renjun flicked the overhead light off, leaving only the small desk lamp between the two beds on before climbing back into bed next to Jaemin. Jaemin got a look at the other bed and found Jisung and Chenle passed out, but they’d shifted so that their foreheads were pressed together, Jisung with his arm thrown across Chenle’s shoulders. It looked like their knees were stacked on top of each other as well. It made Jaemin feel warm, seeing them cuddled together back in his shared room with Jisung. 

“You comfy, Nana?” Renjun asked, his body molding against Jaemin’s as he wrapped his arm around Jaemin’s stomach. 

“Cats or dogs?” Jeno blurted out. 

“What?”

“Do you like cats or dogs better?” Jaemin asked. 

“Both, obviously,” Renjun said. 

“Shit, does that mean we both lose?” Jaemin asked, tilting his head toward Jeno. 

“You were betting?” 

“Yeah, bubble tea,” Jeno said. 

“Perfect. You can  _ both _ buy  _ me _ bubble tea!” 

Jaemin could practically feel Jeno rolling his eyes and Renjun with his ridiculous smirk. He wouldn’t have changed this current setting for the world. Of course he would get super warm during the night and he’d probably have to shove them both off of him at some point, but just being here with them, feeling like everything could go back to normal with his friends was worth more than any discomfort that could befall him. He might have admitted to not being ok several times today, but if anyone asked him right now, he could honestly say that yes, he was ok. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving kudos and/or a comment if you enjoyed it! I would love your feedback :)
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/pinkchimmm)


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